Half Moon Bay (13 page)

Ellie tipped the sizzling bacon garnish into a plate. It had been a hectic afternoon, but dinner was almost ready. Her nerves were on a knife-edge. One minute she had to resist bundling the dog into the car and driving over to Ron and Mavis’s to hide, the next she wanted to lounge back on the white couch with her feet curled under her and wait for Nicholas Lawson to stride through the door. The sensible, and therefore strongest, side of her carried on cooking. The photos she’d taken this morning had enlarged crystal-clear on her photo program. She’d started a rogues’ gallery on her desktop. So far she had O’Sullivan, Lawson, Gazza and Jase. For no other reason than him failing to answer her phone calls, she’d also added Alex to the montage. What sort of a friend left a message saying there was something very wrong and then refused to answer her return calls?

She nudged Shadow with her foot. ‘Be my best guard dog tonight and don’t let me rocket out of control, big buddy.’ Shadow thumped his tail on the floor and she laughed. Turning back to the chopping board, she wrinkled her nose at the parmesan. She hoped he liked simple food because, much as she loved cooking, she hadn’t had much time today. Pesto and gnocchi with a salad was a reliable standby she could do with her eyes shut. She picked up one of the two empty wine glasses and placed it down again. Dutch courage wouldn’t help tonight. There was a bottle chilling in the fridge and she’d wait for Nick to arrive before she opened it. The rain was a steady drumming, a lull before the next deluge.

The little hand blender whirred the basil into a smooth green puree. ‘Now’s not the time to go all gluggy,’ she muttered to herself as some of it stuck in the bottom of the jug.

‘Often talk to the food, do you?’ The amused male voice came from the doorway and she almost screamed.

‘Where the hell did you spring from in this rain?’

The warmth in his laughter swept from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head.

‘Wandered up the beach. Figured that way no one would come and coin my car. Porsche okay, was it?’ His Driza-Bone was beaded in water, the dark cap on his head sodden.

‘Fine, thanks. I’m sure his insurance will cover it.’ All her witty conversation disappeared in a whoosh.

‘So,’ he continued, pulling his cap off and running a hand through his hair while Ellie tried not to watch his every move, ‘are Porsches your thing? Or are you more a flowers-and-champagne kind of girl?’ He shrugged out of the coat and shot a sidewards glance at her. She struggled to summon an answer and glanced down. His feet were bare and that sent a blinding shaft of desire through her.
Stop it!

‘Chocolates, but bribery’s never worked on me and, for the record, neither do fast cars. Does it work for you?’

‘Nope. I’ve not reached mid-life crisis just yet. And chocolates I can take or leave. Champagne? Real champagne is a must on any date. That’s why I’ve brought wine.’ He held up a bottle of white.

‘Ah.’ She tried to ignore the twinge of regret. ‘Thank you.’

‘Dinner smells good.’

‘Simple, uncomplicated. Just a meal.’ She turned back to the block of parmesan and the grater. ‘Pour yourself a wine. It won’t be long.’

She heard the screw top crack open and the splash of wine in the glasses. Its faint bouquet drifted up. ‘You did well yesterday,’ he said.

‘Thanks. Your speech was pretty impressive too.’ There. She’d said it, paid him a compliment in return.

‘I didn’t have the advantage of such stunning photographs. Have you always told your story through images?’

It surprised her. That’s exactly what she’d always done. Not everyone saw it like that.

‘Yes, I suppose I have. It just happened and my grandad encouraged me.’

‘The talent skipped a generation?’

‘Not sure about that.’ She tipped the cheese into the puree and stirred. ‘Dad just had more important things to do than fiddle around with a camera.’

‘And Nina? Where did her talent come from?’ He sipped his wine and she could feel his focus on her.

It was inevitable that he would have heard about her sister. Everyone in the Bay talked about the Wilding girls. Still, Nina’s name made her pause, gather herself.

‘Nina had many gifts; writing was just one of them.’ She fought the lump in her throat. He was trying to disarm her.

‘It must have been hard.’

She put the dish down on the benchtop and turned to him.

‘No offence, but I’d rather not talk about my family.’ She could feel her attempt at a smile stretching her lips. She was surprised to see a shadow of emotion cross his face.

‘Fine. How about surfing, then? Or dogs? Or photography?’ His gaze didn’t leave hers, the measured blink of his thick dark lashes counting the seconds as they ticked by in silence while she considered his words.

She hadn’t had the luxury of studying his face before, other than in a photo. His eyes were a dark rich honey, warm and totally unexpected. They softened the angular planes; added empathy and sympathy. A shiver started low inside, spreading through her body. There was no denying the interest in those intense eyes.

Shadow butted his head into Nick’s knee and Ellie reined in her hormones. ‘Dogs it is, then. Did you bribe Shadow as well?’ The pan behind her rose to the boil and she turned away to add the gnocchi to the water.

‘A bone is a fine thing for a dog.’

‘But he doesn’t eat from anyone he doesn’t know. Or at least he didn’t use to.’ She added the last comment over her shoulder as she turned the gas flame down a touch.

Nick shrugged. ‘Didn’t say no this afternoon.’

This time she frowned. ‘You came out here this afternoon in all that rain? Why?’ This had just got creepy.

‘I was looking for you. You weren’t answering your phone. Either of them. I was concerned.’

‘Concerned?’ She scoffed as she reached for the roma tomatoes. ‘Are you trying to convince me I’m still in danger?’

‘I was concerned.’ He repeated it without inflection. ‘You live a long way out of town.’

‘And everyone knows where I live. That’s its own protection.’

‘You’re an attractive woman.’

‘Oh, please, not that again.’ She waved his comments away with a knife.

‘You really don’t realise the effect you have on men, do you?’

A vicious hiss from the stove made her spin around. ‘I thought you promised to behave,’ she said.

‘No, I promised that we’d get to understand each other better, no strings attached.’

‘That’s not the way I remember it.’

He smiled at her, his gaze a leisurely inspection that was more of a turn-on than it should have been. ‘I’ve never known a journalist who didn’t tamper with the facts. I don’t expect you to have perfect recall of the conversation. But I’ll settle for good food and good company.’ He sipped his wine again and a breeze blew in with the next line of rain, leaching the heat from the air.

‘No
entrée
, so I hope you’re not starving.’

‘Going to bed on a full stomach is never good.’ It sounded straightforward, a foregone conclusion.
Crazy
, she thought. She was crazy to be here with him, but it didn’t stop an unbearable and utterly confusing want from flaring through her even as she ignored his comment.

He perched himself on the other end of the bench, watching her, one bare foot absently scratching Shadow’s tummy. She kept her face turned away. She was clumsy with the adrenalin still flooding through her.

‘So gnocchi for dinner?’ Nick asked.

‘Gnocchi with pesto, a salad, fresh
ciabatta
.’

‘I can finish off the gnocchi if you like.’

‘Really? Let me guess, you can cook as well?’

He grinned, no attempt at modesty. ‘Been known to cook up the odd pasta or two. Comes from having an Italian mama. She’s the opposite to you – short and round like all good Italian nonnas.’

‘Nonna?’ She half frowned. Did he have a wife and kids? That didn’t fit with what little she knew about him.

‘My sister’s kids. Their nonna dotes on them. They love her great Italian food.’

‘Oh no, maybe I should have stuck with steaks on the barbecue. I can’t compete with a real Italian cook.’

He grinned outright this time. ‘Relax, she’d be proud of the way you wield a blender. Even she’s given up on a mortar and pestle. Outside with this?’

She nodded. ‘The rain shouldn’t blow in so I set the table out there.’

‘I noticed. No candles, though.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m cooking you dinner against my better judgement. You think I’m going to turn it into a candlelit occasion?’

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Against your better judgement, you say? I say it was a very sudden change of heart. Why?’

‘Yeah, well, I felt sorry for you having to deal with fools like O’Sullivan. And I felt a little churlish after my accusations this morning. You were great with Max.’ She shrugged. ‘But I’m a journalist, remember. I’m curious about the real Nick Lawson.’

‘You and me both,’ he retorted with a quick laugh.

‘One minute you’re a polite but insistent trespasser. Next incarnation is an out-of-control macho avenger. Then you turn into an articulate engineer wanting to build a sweet little low-key resort. Before I can blink, you’re a paramedic doing a better job than the boys who are paid to do it. All the while, you’re wielding that smile of yours to wreak havoc through the female population of the Bay. Some might call that an intriguing package.’

‘No urge to unwrap the parcel, then?’

‘No danger of that. I think I have a fair idea of what’s being kept under wraps.’ She carried the plates outside.

He held out her chair, then sat down opposite, legs stretched out in front of him. The look in his eyes was hard to read. Wondering how much of the truth she’d already guessed? She hid her smile. He had no idea.

‘That I doubt very much, Ellie. You’ll need many more dinners to work me out.’

‘You really are terribly over-confident. Why would I go out to dinner with you again? What if I already have a man in my life?’

He stopped with his fork half raised. ‘Alex? You’ve already denied that. So do you?’

She flushed, unable to directly lie. ‘Well, not right at the moment, but nor do I need anyone just now.’

He chewed a mouthful. ‘See, that wasn’t difficult, was it? This is good, great pesto.’

‘You’re impossible.’ She stabbed a piece of gnocchi.

‘You’ll get on fine with my mum, she says the same thing.’ His eyes crinkled with amusement.

‘Does your mum have to meet everyone who crosses your path? Seems a little unhealthy to me.’

‘Relax, Ellie, we both know more about each other than we would if we’d met in a bar somewhere, and we have something in common, don’t we?’

‘So listening to gossip gives you the right to say you know me?’ She was incredulous. ‘You don’t have a clue about me or what motivates me, any more than I understand you.’

He put his fork down and leant back in his chair, one strong hand swirling the wine in the elegant glass. ‘Let me see. Very early thirties, freelance photojournalist, recently returned from overseas assignments. Grew up round here and still passionately loves the place. Mum died when you were young, your dad did an amazing job raising his two girls on his own. Your sister was tragically killed in Afghanistan.’

She kept all but a trace of emotion from crossing her face as he continued.

‘Your dad recently retired and headed off round Australia, leaving the family estate safe in your hands.’ He smiled at her. ‘Would you like me to continue?’

She shook her head, her heart beating faster in confusion. ‘Then why are you here?’

‘You tell me,’ he countered. ‘Your turn.’

She steepled her fingers, determined to stop her hands shaking. How much of her research should she reveal? ‘Where to begin? Nicholas Lawson, hot-shot property developer, carved a niche out in Sydney doing waterfront developments, apparently, though I couldn’t find any that actually have your name on them. Of Italian stock, at least on your mum’s side, so you say, so perhaps a little hot-headed and impetuous.’ For an instant she hesitated, weighing her words, then rushed on. ‘Your dad died a couple of years ago and you’ve taken over running the family business. That’s not the same company as is doing the development at the Bay. You’re freelancing for them. You supposedly graduated from the prestigious University of Sydney with an engineering degree and worked overseas at ports unknown and seem to have been untraceable for a number of years. How am I doing so far?’

His expression had closed, the honey-coloured eyes darkening to something closer to treacle but with a dangerous glint. For a moment, Ellie thought she’d gone too far, but to hell with it. He brought up Nina’s death so she could bring up his dad.

He laughed suddenly. ‘You did very well. Filling in the spaces of the enemy. Were you looking for something to undermine me? Find any dirt other than O’Sullivan?’

She thought there was a note of wariness in his voice. Was Alex right? Had he spent his untraceable years in the military or doing something else, something illegal? ‘Not really. Not even any women who’ll say bad things about you, which, considering some of your behaviour, surprises me a little. I had wondered if you were gay, but . . .’ She shrugged, suddenly mischievous. ‘I guess not. A couple of nice photos of you in the society pages that I could find. A very nice line in handbags.’

‘Handbags?’ He was puzzled.

‘You know, an accessory blond who knows how to highlight her beauty and your good looks.’

He almost laughed. ‘Those photos would have to be a couple of years old at least. A man has to have some entertainment in his life.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I’m flattered that you went to so much trouble.’

‘“Know thine enemy.” Besides it really wasn’t much trouble. When you first started asking questions in the village, the drums ran hot with your name. Six days in a journalist’s world is a long time.’

‘Point conceded. But, you know we could work together. Build a development that did justice to this area.’

‘Shhh,’ Ellie said. ‘Listen.’

He looked at her, cocking his head to one side. After a minute he broke the silence. ‘To what?’